#Junkie (GearShark #1)(69)

Or maybe I just wanted to believe that.

His chest was bare. One of his arms, which was strong and defined, was thrown up over the pillow. Drew looked younger when he slept. The intense edge of the daredevil in him was buried by the fullness of his relaxed lips, the smoothness of his face, and the way his lashes swept down, hiding the cloudless blue color of his sometimes penetrating stare.

I didn’t prefer him one way or the other. I liked both. That’s what it was to love someone, right? To love all parts of them.

I wanted to slip right beneath the sheets and claim my place at his side, but I hesitated. We didn’t acknowledge the way we changed last night once everyone came home. Even alone in the car when he drove me back to the house, we didn’t mention it.

We just talked and joked like we always had and pretended everything between wasn’t fundamentally changed. When I got out of the car, we didn’t touch or embrace. I didn’t brush my lips across the scruff on his jaw. I didn’t tell him I loved him.

I was afraid to.

What if the weekend was just a weekend? What if the entire two days were like our first kiss—something to try? What if after I left and he came home, he decided this was insane?

I probably shouldn’t have snuck in here.

It might be awkward.

Why didn’t I think of this before?

Good timing, Mask, I scolded myself. You’re supposed to think your play through before it’s in motion.

“You’re being creepy.”

I jolted at the sound of the voice breaking into my thoughts.

Drew made a sound and looked up at me through barely cracked eyes. “I like creepy as much as I like mornings.”

“I, uh—” All these thoughts in my head and I couldn’t seem to string together one sentence or excuse as to why I was standing in his room.

“You gonna get in bed?” he asked, thumbing at my side of the mattress.

My eyes flew to his face. I couldn’t help but feel surprised. And relieved. He wasn’t even looking at me. His eyes were back to being closed. How could he just lie there and sleep?

The dirty bastard.

My type must be dirty bastards because I grinned, kicked off my shoes, and walked around the bed. I crawled in fully dressed in a pair of jeans and a preppy-looking sweater. It was cold out this morning, but I figured I should at least make an effort to look like I made an effort to get dressed for the interview and shoot.

I wouldn’t be doing any talking or smiling for the cameras, but since I was Drew’s manager (still a super weird thought), I basically represented him, and I wasn’t about to look like some loser off the street.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Drew said as he rolled toward me.

“How do you know? You haven’t even opened your eyes,” I argued.

“I’m naked,” he announced, and as if he needed to prove it, he lifted the blankets to show me that yes, indeed, he was naked.

He also was hard.

“Forrester.” I gasped. “What kind of depraved person sleeps butt-ass naked?”

“The kind who hopes someone might sneak in their room to take advantage of them.”

I clamped my hand around his bare hip and hauled him close. “I think I might be the man for that job.”

His body stiffened. “Your hands feel like you slept in the arctic!”

“It’s cold out.”

“Take your shirt off.”

“I’m over here freezing and you want me to get undressed? I feel the love.” I teased.

“I’ll warm you up.” The sleepy quality to his voice totally turned me on. I ripped the shirts over my head and tossed them over the side of the bed.

We reached for each other at the same time. Our bodies and lips locked at the same time. We kissed like we hadn’t in weeks, and his bare legs tangled through my jean-covered ones as if he didn’t care how knotted up we became.

I tugged on his lower lip with my teeth and rubbed a palm over the scruff on his face. He pulled back abruptly and ducked his head.

“I have morning breath,” he groaned.

“I like morning breath.”

We went back to kissing, and my hand found its way around his cock. Drew’s hips tilted up to give me better access, and I licked deep into his mouth and slowly jacked his length.

He made a sound of pure satisfaction that tightened my balls when I flattened a palm on his chest and pushed him flat on his back.

“Lose the jeans,” he murmured, his hips still seeking my attention.

“No time for me right now,” I said and stroked him again.

He couldn’t argue. His head fell back, his mouth going open with a silent O. I should have just finished him off right then. I could have, but I was greedy.

I spent way too much time last night and this morning thinking the weekend was all we were going to get. But now I had another moment.

Another memory to fold into my head.

I wasn’t going to make it fast because we were pressed for time or because there were other people in this house. I could be thorough and quiet behind his closed door. I wanted Drew to feel my hand even after we were dressed.

Before sliding down his body, I leaned up and scraped my teeth over his ear. “You f*cking turn me on,” I growled. My entire body disappeared beneath the sheets, and I took him in my mouth.